


Under the Tang Sun

by Regency



Category: CSI: Miami, Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Casey joined the FBI and that's all you need to know., Casey lost her license to practice law not her license to kick criminal arse, F/F, F/M, Gen, If you like your crossovers a little nonsensical but kind of cool read this.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:39:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regency/pseuds/Regency
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Calleigh finds herself the intended target of an FBI recruiter, in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any characters recognizable as being from either Law & Order: Special Victims Unit or CSI: Miami. They are the property of their respective producers, writers, and studios, not me. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made in the writing or distribution of this story. It was good, clean fun.
> 
> This is an incomplete, as yet un-posted story that it unlikely to be completed, but I thought somebody might enjoy it. If you're interested to know how it ends, I wrote the final scene, but only outlined what was to happen in the middle; I can tell you.

                It made sense that this woman would enter her life with a gunshot.  Her hair was the color of it, like she’d been on fire her whole life, running into a headwind.  Maybe she’d been too fool to stop.  At least Calleigh Duquesne wasn’t too fool to duck.

                She threw herself to the right when a hollow-point made an angry beeline for her head.  She landed in a skid, the soles of her boots slipping on the fresh drag marks drawn in blood on the floor.  Her sidearm was at her waist, its rightful place, but she had no time to aim.  Neither did she have time to wonder at the mysterious figure who’d folded herself into the scenery nearby.

                If the perp got any closer, she was going to die.  She wasn’t convinced that Eric wasn’t already dead.  This was not the way she wanted to go down: without backup, a gangland execution.

~!~

                Casey cursed herself for stumbling onto a crime already in progress.  It was supposed to be a dead crime scene—no runaway bullets.  She was, however, somewhat thankful for the popping of the guns that covered her arrival.  The crunching of glass under her boots should have been a dead giveaway.

                The former ADA immediately dropped into a crouch, nearly useless given her natural height but a newly-ingrained instinct nonetheless.  She unbuttoned her holster and eyed the scene: shooting from the back of the gutted café.  There had to be a target and given the presence of a Miami-Dade PD humvee outside, she didn’t think they were a part of the criminal element.

                She crept towards the gaping loading dock doors from the side, where the public entrance used to be.  It had been blown to hell by a drive-by three days ago.  That’s what had brought Casey here. She wished someone else had come.

                Her gun was nestled between her sweaty palms.  She spied movement to her left and it took the body of her self-control not to kill the woman she saw panting on the floor, a blood-smudged badge on her hip.  Casey frowned and a plan came together faster than she could relate it to the other woman.  She just hoped she’d go along.

                She approached the left door easily and as soon as she was close, sent it swinging back with a swift kick.  She threw herself back to the ground at the sound of a pained grunt.

~!~

                Calleigh stared at the woman as she moved closer, inwardly cursing good Samaritans and their foolhardy beliefs that they could be heroes.  She didn’t want to admit that she was also a little grateful.

                Then, she spied the holster and methodical movement towards the source of the gunshots.  The gun her hand, the momentary surprise at the sight of Calleigh, the sudden shrewd gleam in her eye.  Calleigh didn’t know what she was planning, but she thought it might be Eric’s only shot.

                The heavy metal door went hurtling backward, sending Calleigh to her feet. Gun in hand she emptied her clip, hoping to hit something, especially someone.

                She dropped to the floor afterwards, waiting for retaliation, because she couldn’t leave. The pool of blood under Eric was bigger.  The knees of her pants were immediately soaked, a total loss.  She’d never wear them again.

                The world around them went quiet.  Then, it went to hell.


	2. Chapter 2

                Casey slapped her hands over her ears and stayed down. The high-pitched squeal of metal on asphalt and the dizzying lights; over-enthusiastic cruisers coming too close to hitting the crime scene and each other overwhelmed her.  She closed her eyes and breathed.  She was still getting used to moments like this.

                The back doors still swung on their hinges, but there were no more bullets.  It was a dead crime scene again.

 

~!~

 

                A slender man with hair as red as Casey's own rolled up to the scene and hopped out of another Humvee to inspect the damage.  It didn’t look good.

                An ambulance carrying Eric Delko had screeched past, rushing him to the nearest trauma center for his injuries.  He’d lost a lot of blood for a man still breathing.  Another ambulance had attended to Casey’s cuts and bruises and were seeing to CSI Duquesne just now.  The other woman had wanted to ride along with Delko, but hadn’t been allowed due to the severity of his injuries.  _The EMTs are gonna need all the room they can get just to keep his heart beating._   Casey wouldn’t bet on Duquesne keeping to the scene for longer than it took for her to give her formal statement to the officer-in-charge.

                _Speaking of which_ …

                Casey took a deep breath and approached the authoritative man with a badge.  She had a feeling she’d have a lot of explaining to do.

“You must be Lieutenant Caine.” She offered her hand and he shook it.  “I’m Special Agent Casey Novak, FBI liaison to the Miami-Dade Police Department.”  She spared a moment to flash him her badge.  She knew she should have identified herself to the presiding officers early-on, but the habit was still new and she wasn’t used to it yet.

                “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Agent Novak.  It seems I have a lot to thank you for today.  Your crack-shot saved two of my CSIs.  Thank you for that.”  He seemed to peruse her through the lenses of his shades.  She could sense his unspoken interest as she’d been able to sense it in John Munch, when she began at Special Victims all those years ago, and in Jason Gideon, when they’d met in passing at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.  They were a brand of men she’d learned to tolerate and, even eventually, respect.  Occasionally, she got lucky and the feeling was mutual.

                “I was only too glad to do it, Lieutenant.”  She clasped her hands together in front of her, wishing she had a briefcase to occupy her fingers instead of an empty holster and a gleaming badge.

                “Not to be rude, Agent, but I need to know what you were doing at my crime scene.”  The pale fellow, best described in Casey’s estimation as ginger, stood before her with his hands on his hips and an expectant expression.  She couldn’t exactly say that her over-eagerness had assailed her again; but, it had.  She’d come to a scene at which she had no business in order to watch the Crime Scene Investigators work.  Instead, she’d walked into what could have been a double-murder—capital murder—and she’d stopped it.   Stopped it, capped the perp and saved the good guys.

                “I was familiarizing myself with the particulars of the case.  Your CSIs had been working the scene for several days with no incident, I assumed it was secure and drove over to get a feel for things.  I wanted to see what the perpetrator saw and from his point-of-view.   As I told your patrolman, I came in through the entrance indicated in the police report and encountered CSI Duquesne taking heavy fire.”

                Casey recounted the incidence like she was giving her opening statement. This was her chance to impress.  She needed to ingratiate herself with these people if she was going to succeed at her appointed task.  SVU had taught her how _not_ to make friends.  She had to make that experience work for her.


End file.
